


The Most Important Things

by shadows_of_1832 (SaoirseVictoire)



Series: To Fly and to Fall [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, for once I can write something on the happier side of things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 16:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21377320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaoirseVictoire/pseuds/shadows_of_1832
Summary: It's been a long night for the both of them, dark circles lingering under both of their eyes. But the joy brought forth at the end makes it all worth the while.
Relationships: Enjolras/Éponine Thénardier
Series: To Fly and to Fall [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1454473
Kudos: 11





	The Most Important Things

The sky is still dark when the newborn’s cries reach his ears.

Dark circles linger underneath his eyes, strands of blond hair having come loose from their tie and into his face. Enjolras should want to go to sleep, after having been up all night and in a state of concern and anxiousness since almost noon the previous day, but until the joy and relief subside, sleep would be difficult.

As for Eponine, who has been stronger than him in all of this, from days before the barricades to now, she deserves as much rest as she can get. More-so now, after what she’s had to go through for the past few seasons. She herself has dark circles beneath her eyes and sweat along her hairline, and her breath is only slowly returning to normal.

But she’s smiling. Despite the pain, the suffering, the exhaustion, she’s smiling.

The midwife places the wailing newborn on Eponine’s chest as she continues working on a few things, and his breath catches in his throat and an unfamiliar warmth floods him.

“He’s got a strong set of lungs on him,” the midwife comments, a soft smile on her face.

Eponine murmurs something in the direction of the child, but Enjolras misses the words, though not because he didn’t hear, no, but rather, his focus was on the bonding pair. Eponine, stroking the newborn’s cheek, eyes gentle. She glances up at him, to be met with an expression of awe.

“He gets such a thing from you,” she says, turning her head back to the newborn. “You’ve got the golden words to prove it.”

“I would argue it comes from you, with your sharp wit and tongue,” he replies, a slight tease in his voice.

The midwife takes the child from Eponine for a few short moments for a quick examination and to clean him up. Eponine’s eyes remain in their direction, ever watchful and protective. Enjolras presses a soft kiss onto her forehead, a hand placed on her shoulder.

“He’s here,” she murmurs, reaching to clasp his hand and squeezing it. Tears drip from her eyes from joy and disbelief. “He’s…he’s really here, Valère.”

He nods in agreement, finding himself at a loss for words. Enjolras has watched day-by-day, and every day, something was new, something was different. Though he doesn’t recall much in the very early days, he remembers the light in her eyes when she informed him of the news. Then as time grew on, she did, too, the bump of her abdomen growing larger with each passing day. There was such a fondness in her eyes when she felt quickening, and how a few weeks later, he was able to feel their child’s movements beneath the palm of his hand…It was surreal, and now, to have this new, little life, in this world with them, a life he and Eponine created together…perhaps there were no words to describe such a feeling.

The midwife returns the newborn to them after having wrapped him in a blanket. Eponine takes him, minding his head as she cradles him in her arms. The midwife watches the trio for a moment, a fond smile on her face before she goes back to cleaning things up at the foot of the bed.

The newborn’s face scrunches up from a yawn, and to Enjolras, it’s among the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

“He’s going to look just like you,” Eponine says, adjusting the folds of the bundle. “Though, I do think he’ll be more like his uncle, in terms of personality.”

“You think?”

She nods. “It would certainly fit him.”

He smiles.

The midwife takes her leave, and Enjolras, with some hesitance, shows her to the door. He takes a few coins off the end table by the sofa and goes to hand them to her. She narrows her eyes in confusion.

“For your help, madame,” he says, still holding out the coins.

Her eyes flicker from the coins to his face. “Payment isn’t necessary, monsieur. Keep it; use it to buy clothes for the child or another blanket. The cold harms the little ones quicker than we’d expect it to.”

“Madame Fraser—”

“I have no need for the money, which reminds me…” She reaches into her pocket, removing a small pouch, then drops it into his outstretched hand. “Your wages for the next five days. My husband isn’t expecting you at the print shop until next Monday.”

He shakes his head. “I do not…”

“You can and you will; neither of us will take any argument involving it, and don’t worry about repaying us, either; there’s no need of it,” she says, backing away to reach for her coat. “If you’re going to worry over anything, let it be your wife and child—they’re the most important things.”

_As if I do not do enough of that_, he keeps to himself, suddenly reminded of the bareness within their lodgings, and what very few things he and Eponine have for their newborn. He closes his hand around the pouch. “Thank you.”

She nods.

He goes ahead of her to open the door, feeling the cold rush of the winter air strike his skin as she walks past.

“Remember: Monday, not a day sooner,” she says as she walks out onto the stoop.

He returns a curt nod, then closes the door behind her. He sets the pouch and coins onto the end table. He walks back into the bedroom, when Eponine is already staring towards the doorway, waiting for him.

“Everything all right?” she asks, concern in her eyes as she shifts over on the bed to give him room to sit. The child squirms for a moment in protest.

“Yes,” he replies, sitting down. “Madame Fraser was only reminding me that I was given the next few days off.”

“She’s smart enough to know you’d try going within the next few hours, I bet,” Eponine says, a smile upon her face as she turns her attention back the bundle in her arms.

He gives a small laugh, an acceptance of the likelihood he would have.

A brief pause goes between them, the pair focusing on the new life Eponine held.

“I think Gavroche will suit him,” Enjolras suggests, reaching to move a small portion of the blanket that obscured his view of the newborn’s face.

She turns her head, searching and realizing the seriousness in his words, her eyes masking the pain that still resides from the loss of her kid brother. She looks back towards the face of the sleeping child in her arms. “Gavroche…Gavroche Valère Enjolras…It’s perfect.”

The snow outside reflects orange, signaling dawn is near in its arrival.

“Welcome to the world, _mon petit_,” Enjolras says, the tips of his fingers brushing the child’s cheek. Gavroche yawns, and he smiles.


End file.
